


Heart, Mind, Soul & Hand

by flourchildwrites, Tasia (ruikosakuragi), waddiwasiwitch



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Advice, Cultural Differences, Domestic Fluff, F/M, FMA Secret Santa 2019, Gen, Marriage, Romance, Xing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-31
Updated: 2020-01-31
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:27:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22486312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flourchildwrites/pseuds/flourchildwrites, https://archiveofourown.org/users/ruikosakuragi/pseuds/Tasia, https://archiveofourown.org/users/waddiwasiwitch/pseuds/waddiwasiwitch
Summary: Alphonse considered himself a lucky man to meet Mei for a second time on equal footing.  And, if he was being honest with himself, he knew it would be an honor to remain by her side for as long as she would allow.  But first, as always in Xingese culture, the formalities had to be observed — intricate, perplexing and time-honored formalities that found the younger Elric brother in woeful need of advice.  What does one get for the alkahestress who has everything?Written for FMA Secret Santa 2019
Relationships: Alphonse Elric & Edward Elric, Edward Elric/Winry Rockbell, Mei Chan | May Chang/Alphonse Elric, Riza Hawkeye/Roy Mustang
Comments: 17
Kudos: 108
Collections: FMA Secret Santa 2019





	Heart, Mind, Soul & Hand

**Author's Note:**

  * For [totallynottrash](https://archiveofourown.org/users/totallynottrash/gifts).



> Happy (seriously belated) holidays, linksphilosopherssock! You have, not one but three back-up Secret Santas who tackled this gift as a team. We heard that you liked Royai, Edwin and Almei, so we decided to give you a little bit of everything. We hope that you like it and that the fic was worth the wait! We certainly enjoyed creating it for you.

Alphonse Elric understood many things. He could wax poetic about the difference between alchemy and alkahestry, expertly parsing the differences between tectonic energy and the revered dragon’s pulse. He could ruminate, at length (in either his native Amestrian or Xingese), about the ethics of human transmutation with a fire in his eyes that dissuaded the most curious upstarts. And after many years of instruction, Mei Chang had even managed to teach him how to brew a decent cup of tea.

It was impossible to say when Alphonse had fallen for the Chang clan’s most respected alkahestry practitioner, but if he had to guess, he’d wager that it happened during their quiet hours of study in Emperor Ling’s palace archive. Often, Al suspected that a force other than fate had so often placed them on the same committee or seated them side-by-side at the lengthiest banquets. And whether this force’s name started with Li- or La- or Ed- or Win- didn’t seem to matter when all was said and done.

Alphonse considered himself a lucky man to meet Mei for a second time on equal footing. He felt privileged to be able to make her smile and giggle at his (still) awful pronunciation of Xingese words. And, if he was being honest with himself, he knew it would be an honor to remain by her side for as long as she would allow, pondering the precise tone of her chi, admiring the intricate plats of her trademark braids or debating about what to have for dinner.

But first, as always in Xingese culture, the formalities had to be observed — intricate, perplexing and time-honored formalities that found the younger Elric brother in woeful need of advice.

Alphonse knocked on the office door and heard a familiar “Come in.” A warmth filled his chest at the sound of Captain Hawkeye’s voice. He stepped inside, and Hawkeye stood up, her eyes wide. 

“Alphonse!” She smiled, her eyes crinkled around the edges. “It’s so good to see you. What a nice surprise. The team will be disappointed to have missed you.”

He smiled back. “I was actually hoping to talk to you and General Mustang.” He glanced at the door to the inner office. “Is he in?”

She inclined her head. “He is, but he is on the phone to the Fuhrer at the moment. If you wouldn’t mind waiting a while-”

The door to the inner office opened suddenly and revealed a purple-faced Mustang with clenched fists. “That sneaky-” He cut himself off when he saw Alphonse standing there, and his anger evaporated. “Alphonse!”

Still, he couldn’t help but notice that Mustang’s eyes searched the room. Alphonse suspected he was expecting to see his brother standing there. After all, they had been inseparable back when Ed was a state alchemist. 

“Congratulations are in order if the rumours I hear of upcoming nuptials are true.” Mustang wrung his hand. 

Alphonse smiled, pride bursting in his chest. “They are.”

“Well, well, you have aimed high.” Mustang winked. “Well done, snagging yourself a Xingese princess.”

“Sir,” Hawkeye scolded. She turned to Alphonse and embraced him. “Congratulations, Alphonse, we’re delighted for _both_ of you.”

“Didn’t I just say the same thing?” Mustang muttered.

Hawkeye rolled her eyes as she pulled back. 

Alphonse dipped his head. “That’s part of why I came actually, I wanted to give you invitations in person. Xingese custom dictates we deliver the invitations in person if possible.”

Mustang and Hawkeye glanced at one another. As usual, the pair seemed to be having a completely nonverbal conversation before turning back to him. 

“Of course, we’ll come.” Mustang beamed from ear to ear. “Before you say anything, Hawkeye, we’ll reschedule any necessary meetings. We can’t miss this. Especially after Alphonse came all this way.”

Alphonse reached into his pocket and took out two ornate envelopes. He handed them reverently to the officers.

“Xing?” Mustang ripped open the envelope while his subordinate opened hers carefully. “I’ve never been to Xing.”

“How is Mei?” Hawkeye asked. “Pass on our thanks.”

“She is well, but she had to stay behind. There is a lot to plan before the wedding.” Alphonse sighed. “Her family has some very specific plans for this wedding.”

A small frown appeared on Hawkeye’s face. “Is there something bothering you, Alphonse?” 

“Well, can I just get an opinion from a woman’s perspective?”

“Of course,” she said.

“It’s just that I wanted to get Mei a ring, but she seems bemused by Amestrian customs.”

“It doesn’t have to be a ring.” She patted his arm. “But it should be something that means a lot to you both. One of the reasons why jewellery is traditionally given is because women didn’t always have control of their finances.”

Alphonse nodded. “I guess I can understand that. It just seems wrong somehow not to give her something as a symbol.”

“Have you explained this to her, Alphonse? I’m sure you two could come to some sort of compromise.” She smiled reassuringly. “Try not to worry. I’m sure you two will figure it out in no time.”

“I hope so.” 

“Would you like a cup of tea?” she asked. 

He nodded. He was still unconvinced. 

“I couldn’t help overhearing,” Mustang began as Hawkeye stepped out of the office. He was sitting on the edge of Hawkeye’s desk. “If a woman says she doesn’t want jewellery it means you haven’t given her the right one. You have to give her a ring to show your love and your commitment to her. What displays that better than a ring?”

Alphonse’s face fell. Confusion reigned.

Mustang slapped him on the back. “Don’t worry, I know of an amazing jeweller. He even makes bespoke rings if there is something there that you don’t like. By the end of this visit, I’m sure you’ll have the perfect ring.”

The young man had little time to reconcile the contradictory advice as Captain Hawkeye turned the corner, balancing a modest tray of milk, sugar and tea. Alphonse took his cup, bowing his head in thanks and inwardly thinking that, perhaps, Hawkeye had not steeped the tea long enough. Still, he sipped, grateful for the small comfort.

“Ring or no ring, what’s important is the bond you share,” Hawkeye said in summation.

Yet, Al couldn’t help but notice Mustang ostentatiously mouthing the word “ring” over his Captain’s shoulder with a confident nod.

* * *

There wasn’t time to visit the jeweller that General Mustang had mentioned. In fact, there was barely time to catch the day’s last train to Resembool. As Alphonse watched the scenery outside the window shift from industrial warehouses to rolling fields of farmland, he felt the hands of the clock rewind back to lazy days of traveling alongside the Fullmetal Alchemist.

As a disembodied soul, Alphonse’s existence had sidelined him from the simple pleasures life had to offer. Nevertheless, the young man smiled as he grounded himself in the moment that and assured himself that, indeed, he could feel the weight of his suitcase leaning against his leg. He knew that there was a warm bed waiting for him in the Elric family home. He expected that the sweet scent of Winry’s apple pie would greet him as he approached the modest steps of the rebuilt estate.

And he was right on all accounts.

“Uncle Al!” Yuriy Elric exclaimed.

Ed and Winry’s oldest son must have grown half a foot since the last time his Uncle Al had visited, but no one would have known it from the way Alphonse scooped him up, hoisted him atop his shoulders without skipping a beat. The blond boy kicked his feet and raised his arms high into the cool evening air.

“He’s here! He’s here! Do you see, Dad? He’s here!”

The stocky build of Edward Elric carefully descended the steps with a small baby girl nested within the crook of his right arm. It did Alphonse good to see his brother like this — paternal and settled with bags under his eyes but a sincere smile stretching the corners of his tanned face. A tight feeling shot through Alphonse’s chest as he realized that their mother would have been especially proud of the father her oldest became. Maybe, she would have been proud of him as well.

“Welcome back,” Ed greeted. “Long time no see.”

“Brother,” Alphonse responded as the siblings exchanged a soft look. “Happy to be back, for a little while at least.”

Ed helped Yuriy down and ushered him indoors. “Run down to the workshop, and tell your mother Uncle Al has arrived.”

With little Sara still swaddled securely in one arm, Ed took Alphonse’s suitcase and bristled at the weight. “Did you bring the Emperor’s whole library with you?”

Al chuckled. “Just a little light reading for the trip, and about a dozen wedding invitations. Mei sent some gifts for the kids too. Don’t worry. She’s holding off on the kunai until Yuriy turns 10 or 11.”

Ed grinned mischievously, jest concern dripping from his words.

“That doesn’t make me worry any less.”

With Ed’s response came the unwanted memory of an attempted human transmutation. It had happened when the Elric brothers were 10 and 11 in this very house. Nevertheless, those events felt foggy, like something from a past life. Alphonse shrugged, good-natured smile intact, as he ignored the tectonic remnants of such powerful alchemy seeping up from the basement that was now Winry’s workshop. The weary traveler took infant Sara in his arms and admired his niece for the first time since her birth.

“I can’t imagine why,” he said.

* * *

Ed cooked beef stew for dinner though Winry’s apple pie was easily the best thing passed around the table. It was second only to the small bottle of sake Alphonse presented as a present to his sister-in-law alongside his wedding invitation. And as the stars burned brighter in the night sky, the conversation also flowed. Alphonse confessed his dilemma to Winry and Ed, tacking on the contradictory advice of the General and his Captain.

“I think, perhaps, Mei would appreciate a family heirloom over a ring that would normally cost hundreds and thousands of cenz,” Winry suggested. “I could give you one of grandmother’s rings that she received from grandfather. I think Mei will love it.”

But Alphonse shook his head, determined that the answer to his dilemma was not the treasured ring that he knew sat in Winry’s jewellery box. “No. I can’t take something as precious as that. Pinako gave them to you.”

“I don’t mind parting with one.”

“Winry, thank you, but I really can’t. It won’t feel right,” he insisted with a reassuring smile.

“Then what are you going to do?”

Before Alphonse could voice his thoughts, Ed sprang from his seat and raised his index finger knowingly towards the sky. And had it not been for the baby he had rocked to sleep only minutes ago, Al could have sworn that the sweet effects of the sake had taken control of his brother, turning his cheeks a little too red and making his laughter much too loud for the sleeping baby.

With a wary glance at little Sara’s room, Winry attempted to shush her husband. But Ed followed with a hard clap on his back that threatened to regurgitate the spoonful of apple pie that Alphonse had only swallowed.

“You know we’ve still got your old suit of armor in a crate out back,” Ed exclaimed with much enthusiasm before a sneer crept along his potty mouth. “Bet I could dig out that metallic jockstrap looking thing since Mei’s clearly got you whipped.”

“Ed!” Winry warned with a hiss sharper than usual.

Distraught by more pressing matters, Alphonse simply offered a halfhearted chuckle as he rose to his feet, sliding his chair backward and stacking the empty dishes on the table into a short tower of plates. “I can help you clean up, Winry. And then I think I’ll turn in for the night.”

* * *

It was surreal to be in a bedroom that looked like the one he grew up in and sat in the same position but was, in fact, different down to its bones. Alphonse would never tell Edward that his recreation of their family dwelling was anything less than a perfect replication. But, had he been critical, it was worth noting that the ceiling felt too low and the window was situated a few inches to the right of the original. Or maybe Al was simply shorter now.

He smirked at the novelty of that concept.

Alphonse adjusted his sheets in an attempt to get comfortable. He turned onto his side, propped a book against his pillow and rubbed at his tired eyes. Still, sleep remained as elusive as the perfect gift for Mei.

He agreed with Captain Hawkeye — it did not have to be a ring. But, as General Mustang had opined, there was no better analogy for unity than a circle, the many curves life could take molded by choice into a single line with neither beginning nor end. And while Granny’s rings were precious, they were more meaningful to Winry.

As for Edward’s advice, well, he could be an ass. A punch drunk, sleep-deprived ass who (for reasons unknown, perhaps guilt) never missed an opportunity to remind Alphonse that he had spent years cutting an imposing figure within a hollow suit of armor. A suit of armor that neither man could bring themselves to part with. A suit of armor that was sitting in the shed out back and…

Lightning struck in the form of a clever idea. Alphonse sat straight up and pushed the covers aside. He crossed his room in three determined strides and rummaged in the suitcase propped open on the desk. Down the stairs, Alphonse moved with a rudimentary alchemy book and several pieces of chalk in hand. With his feet crammed into Edward’s galoshes, he entered the small storage shed out back and re-emerged the next morning with a piece of handiwork that brought tears to Winry’s eyes.

* * *

Alphonse stepped into the library, his eyes landed on his soon to be wife who was writing what appeared to be a letter. Mei’s face lit up and his heart skipped a beat.

He was home at last.

Before he could utter a word, he had an armful of his Xingese princess. His arms pulled her close and he breathed her in. 

“I missed you,” he whispered.

“Not as much as I missed you.”

Her fervent reply made him chuckle and he kissed her temple.

“How is the preparation going?”

Mei’s eyes flashed. “I feel like I am going to kill someone one of these days.”

He arched an eyebrow. “I don’t think The Emperor would be very happy about that.”

“It’s him I want to kill,” she muttered. Before Al could say another word. “Well, tell me did you bring me any presents from your travels?”

His girl could read his mind. He was sure of it. Feeling the inside of his coat, he pulled out a small box.

“I made this from my old suit of armor.” Al opened it to reveal a small ring. It was dull silver and plain with the smallest hint of copper blush. The only unique adornment was a white filament twisted around the band. “I transmuted pieces of armor from my breastplate, my hand and the place where Ed put the blood seal to make the ring. The white strand is what was left of my old hair.”

“Why those parts?” Mei asked as she regarded the simple piece of jewelry, holding it up the light. “Surely, that armor was precious to you.”

Al smiled. His reply was well-rehearsed, but sincere all the same. “You’ve given me a place in your heart, a piece of your mind, an insight into your soul and you’re about to give me your hand in marriage. I thought I should return the favor. It’s equivalent exchange.”

Her eyes welled up. “It’s beautiful, Alphonse, I would be glad to wear it.”


End file.
